There’s a pattern I see repeatedly in people who have just retired. Eager to fill up the time they used to spend earning a living, they fill their days with activities. The activities may be largely recreational or social in nature, or they may include serving on boards, volunteering at food banks, working on political campaigns, or any number of other rewarding, fulfilling tasks.
For people who have been running at top speed all their professional lives, this seems like a smart thing to do. The idea of limitless, unstructured time can leave people accustomed to packed schedules and productive activity feeling strangely unmoored.
But many people whose working lives revolved around accomplishment and productivity eventually discover that this formula no longer satisfies them in the same way it once did.
Many retirees find that simply replacing work with more activity and accomplishment doesn’t bring the deeper peace and happiness they imagined retirement would offer. No matter who you are, peace and happiness are your birthright. Wouldn’t it be a shame not to discover something that could sustain you for the rest of your life?
That birthright can only be enjoyed when we’re willing to look at who we really are, and who we’ve always been underneath that life of doing and accomplishing.
In my experience, few of us have spent much time exploring that. And often, the more intelligent, educated, and accomplished we are, the easier it’s been to postpone questions of peace and well-being because, after all, there was so much to do.
Retirement Is About More Than Activity
It may be time to look at life through a different lens, one directed inward—not toward your personal psychology, but toward who you’ve always really been underneath all that doing and accomplishing. After all, you’re at a different stage of life now, and whether you fully recognize it or not, your needs are changing.
Looking through this new lens can allow you to discover that retirement doesn’t have to be about losing who you thought you were. The lovely possibility may instead be discovering who you really are, and have always been.
What could be more reassuring than discovering an abiding sense of peace and well-being? And what could be more practically useful at this stage of life?
Many of the themes in this article connect with another reflection I wrote about retirement and identity called What Happens When the Life You Built isn’t Enough?
